


Bowl With the Changes

by dr_ducktator



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:25:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_ducktator/pseuds/dr_ducktator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen loves to bowl. Jared's totally going to make him question that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lies, all of it.

Jensen loves the smell of bowling alleys. It doesn’t matter which city he’s in, they all smell the same to him. They smell like french fries, lane wax, stale cigarette smoke, and beer, and each of these smells assault him when he walks into a bowling alley, and he thinks, in some ways, he’s home.

As a little boy, Jensen’s grandmother worked in a bowling alley. She was tiny, but fierce. People did not fuck with her, and Jensen thought she was amazing. He was her favorite grandchild, and though she died when he was ten, he thinks of her often, especially when he walks into a bowling alley.

And while she didn’t own the lanes, she certainly acted like she did; she acted like she owned anything and everything, really. One of his fondest memories of his early childhood is of his grandmother propping him up on the automatic lane waxer and letting him ride up and down the lanes. When he was done, she’d give him Rolos while he screwed around with the shoes behind the counter.

So yeah, the bowling alley – any bowling alley – feels like home.

Tonight, Jensen will join 4 other people on their weekly bowling league to take on some other team from the university. The teams are mostly departmental; Jensen bowls for the Philosophy department, as do Misha, Chris, Mike, and Chad – they’re all graduate students together.

When Jensen arrives at the table designated for their team, cleverly named “Platonic Love” at some point long before Jensen came on the scene, Misha, Chad, and Chris are there, but Mike hasn’t yet arrived.

“Hey guys! Where’s Mike?” Jensen asks as he sets his bowling bag down and starts extracting his shoes, towel, and ball from it.

The kinds of responses he received were varied: Misha snorted, Chris rolled his eyes, and Chad looked a little too excited for his own good, as if he had something he’s dying to say. “Mike had an accident, Jenny!” Chad said, his voice laced with glee.

“Why is that something to be happy about?” Jensen looked to Misha and Chris for a saner explanation, but got none.

“Oh, I’m not happy he’s hurt. It’s the way he got hurt that gets me every time I think about it.” The grin on Chad’s face was reaching maniacal proportions.

“Jesus, Chad. Just spill it,” Jensen huffed.

Chad looked over to Misha and Chris, seemingly asking for permission to continue before crowing, “He lost his thesis! I don’t know how, but he lost it! I’m so happy I could dance all over the place. That fucker finally got what he deserved!”

Jensen felt the blood drain from his face. Losing your thesis in your last semester of your master’s program is like the worst thing in the world. He can’t even begin to imagine what that must be doing to Mike. “Dude. What the fuck? How can you be happy about this? Why would Mike deserve that?” They had all been pretty close friends since starting the graduate program over a year ago, so Jensen couldn’t figure out why Chad was being such a dick aside from his usual dickishness they had all grown to love.

Finally, Chris piped up, “Chad’s still pissed that the one girl in our program chose Mike over him. And I’m gonna go home later and tell him how to recover it. I think he just pushed some buttons wrong, or some shit. You know Mike’s not great with technology. I’d call him and tell him now, but it is a little funny to think of him panicking.”

Jensen placed his ball on the ball corral-thingy (as much time as he’s spent in bowling alleys, he never learned the name of that thing) and walked back to his group. “Remind me to never have an existential crisis around you guys. You’re terrible friends.” He slumped down at the table, still weakened from the terror he felt at the idea of losing such an important piece of work.

Leaning back and taking a cleansing breath, Jensen asked, “So who’s bowling for Mike? We need a replacement.”

Misha stood up from tying his bowling shoes, and started stretching his arms. Misha took bowling very seriously. “One of the newbies in the department – Jared, I think his name is. He’s in my Phenomenology class, so I asked him if he wanted to fill in for the rest of the semester.”

“Why the rest of the semester?” Jensen asked. “Isn’t Mike coming back? I mean, his thesis really isn’t lost.”

“Nah, Jenny, Mike’s bailed on us completely. He said he needed to quit anyway because of other grad. school applications, the thesis, blah blah blah. That’s why I’m letting him stew a little in his panic room.” Chad really enjoyed other people’s pain too much. Jensen couldn’t understand how someone like that could be so interested in Ethics.

“Shit, I forgot Mike’s leaving,” Jensen said. “I don’t know why he didn’t apply to just stay on through the Ph.D. here like the rest of us.”

Chris pulled his hair into a pony-tail, a thoughtful look on his face and replied, “I don’t think he’s all that happy here, Jen. He loves us, but I think the program’s wrong for him.”

“I guess you’re right. He has been complaining about the shitty course offerings lately, but Misha! Did you say Jared? As in Jared Padalecki? No. HELL NO. You know he and I don’t get along. He’s an asshole. An asshole with long hair and a penchant for deep v-neck shirts only douche bags wear!” Jensen noticed Misha had stopped looking at him and now he, Chris, and Chad were looking above and behind Jensen. He swallowed hard and looked at the trio. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?”

They nodded, and Jensen wanted to die. He’s a nice person; really he is. It’s just that Padalecki has rubbed him the wrong way since last semester. He aced all his qualifying exams the first time through, which, like, no one does. And he’s too nice. No one is that nice. And Jensen’s under a lot of stress because he’s in fucking grad school, he’s single, which sucks because he’s gay and in a super male-dominated field, which would normally be great, but Philosophy guys are pretty awful in general, and he wants Platonic Love to win the league this year. Yeah, yeah. First World problems. Fuck off.

Jared landed a hand on Jensen’s right shoulder and swiveled his chair around to face him. Jensen’s face was like stone as he took Jared’s presence in. Yep. There he was: 6 foot 20 or something, pretty hair, and a fucking v-neck shirt. Jensen couldn’t believe he had to bowl with this asshole. And he hated that he was so good-looking. No one is that nice and that hot. He wanted to crawl into the ball return and never reemerge.

A wicked grin spread across Jared’s face as he kept his hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “That’s okay, Jensen, I think you’re an asshole, too. A too-pretty-for-his-own-good asshole who doesn’t know when to be grateful when he should. I’m saving your team’s collective asses, am I not?” Jensen brushed Jared’s hand off his shoulder, but Jared continued, looking up at Chris, Chad, and Misha and saying, “Hey guys. Thanks for inviting me. I love bowling, so this will be really fun!”

See? No one is that nice. Seriously. “Alright, man, if we’re gonna bowl together, you know, be on a team together, we better lay some ground rules. 1. Though we are a team composed of philosophers, we do not talk about philosophy extensively when we bowl. This is supposed to be fun, a break from the rest of life, so we try to keep academic pissing contests to a minimum. That includes you yammering on about your philosophical prowess, got it?” Jared nodded, giving Jensen a look that was some impossible combination of sheer innocence and fuck you, you fucking fuck. “2. We take turns buying beer. Every week someone pays. And guess what? It’s your week! Pony up!” Jared took some money out and handed it over to Misha so he could sit and listen to Jensen’s rules. “3. Don’t do anything else that’s annoying. Them’s the rules.”

“Wow, Jensen. You really know how to make bowling depressing. Great work. Are your papers so light and airy? Everything will be fine. We will bowl and we will leave. End of story. We don’t have to be friends if you don’t want to, which I can tell you don’t. But you don’t have to be a dick.”

“Alright assholes, enough barking, it’s time to bowl.” Chris said as he stood from his seat across from Jared and Jensen and next to Chad. He walked up to the ball corral, grabbed his ball, and threw a strike. Cool as a cucumber. That was Chris. Very unflappable.

Chad whooped and hopped up from his chair giving Chris a high-five on his way to take his turn. Misha had returned to the table with 3 pitchers of beer and began pouring for the other men. Chad returned to the table having bowled a respectable spare, grabbed his beer and plopped down in his chair.

Jensen bowled next and he could feel Jared’s eyes on him. Of course, that’s when Jensen decides to throw a spectacular gutter ball. “Fuck!” He yelled. Turning back to the group, Misha, Chad, and Chris were staring at him open-mouthed, while Jared looked like the cat that was about to get the canary. See, Jensen didn’t miss. He didn’t. He picked up the spare and trudged back to the table. “Sorry guys. I don’t know what happened.” They all just kept staring. Well, all of them save Jared.

“Wow. Wow. Just. Wow. Jensen, that was beautiful. I didn’t know it was possible to get the ball in the gutter like that. You make failing look like art. Watch and learn.” Jared unfolded himself from the table and stood up to his full height. He stood at the approach line with his ball, walked forward and, of course, got a fucking strike. Jensen couldn’t help but be taken aback by the gracefulness with which Jared moved while bowling. It was an odd sight; bowling isn’t the most graceful sport, but somehow Jared made it pretty…or something.

Settling back down next to Jensen, Jared turned his chair toward him and, giving him an innocent smile all full of dimples and fluttery eyelashes said, “See? That’s not so hard, is it?”

Jensen wanted to kill him. It didn’t matter that he thrilled when Jared flashed his dimples, or that Jensen had noticed the guy could make the v-neck work; this was war, and Jared had made his all-out declaration.

The three other team members kept watching the exchanges between Jensen and Jared like they were the world’s biggest fans of tennis. No one got to Jensen like Jared seemed to be doing. No one. And the scene unfolding before them was nothing short of glorious.

Misha voiced what the trio was thinking as he moved to bowl, “Jared, welcome to the team, man. You’re gonna fit in perfectly around here. Jensen needs to be taken down a peg or twelve.”

“Fuck you, Mish,” Jensen pouted. He realized he was being a dick so he tried to lighten the mood by throwing a little piece of popcorn at his favorite student of Eastern philosophy.

“That’s ‘übermish’, thank you very much. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to achieve transcendence through bowling.”


	2. Chapter 2

The team Platonic Love was bowling against, Pimp IT, was composed of douche bags. Or, at least Jensen thought they were douche bags. So Jensen may hold academic grudges, what’s the big deal? Computer students always waltz in to Logic class and treat it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, wondering why everyone has such a hard time with it, while Jensen was barely able to make it through his qualifying exam. And it wasn’t because he could hardly see his translations through his tears. Logic is fucking hard.

Platonic Love made quick work of Pimp IT, though, because despite their love for numbers and symbols, they can’t throw for shit. Jensen still hates them, though. Yes, he has a lot of feelings. So when the overall score of their three-game series was 1228 to 1046, Jensen and the rest of his team were happy campers, er, bowlers.

Jared had bowled amazingly well. Of course he did. He was hot, and nice (the jury was still out on that one), and good at philosophy, and funny (Jensen had learned this throughout the evening as he witnessed Jared trading barbs with the rest of his teammates), and probably good at everything else. Jensen flushed a little at that thought. How could he not? Have you seen Jared? Jesus. He’s totally what Plato was talking about when he theorized about ideal beauty. Jensen’s pretty sure Jared is capable of time travel or something, because all those Greek sculptures you see had to have been inspired by him. Despite Jared’s hotness, though, Jensen wasn’t going to let down his guard.

They were celebrating their victory with a fifth pitcher of beer, and they were well on their way to waking up dead the next morning. Thankfully, Jared had the presence of mind to stop after two beers and offered to be the designated driver for everyone else. That declaration earned him a permanent spot on the team by Chris and Chad. Misha liked to walk to bowling since he didn’t live that far away anyway. And Jensen? He accepted the ride home. But he had his eyes peeled for any hints that Jared’s niceness was a sham designed to make men like Jensen crazy.

 

******************************************************************************

 

Having dropped Chris and Chad at their apartment, Jensen gave Jared directions to his little place near campus. It was a very, very small efficiency equidistant between the library and the philosophy building. It was perfect for Jensen, though; he had room for his books, a bed, and a desk. Everything else was extra crap he figured no one needed.

“Thanks for the ride, The Padalecki. See y’in th’office ‘morrow.” Jensen had pretty much exhausted himself spitting out his thank you; he’d really had too much to drink. He couldn’t help it, though. Hot nice Jared made him nervous and it drove him nuts. The beer wasn’t helping.

Jared laughed. “The Padalecki? Am I like, an inanimate object or something?”

“Shit! I said The Padalecki? Shit. I only call y’that when yer not here.” Jensen waved his hands around trying to indicate where ‘here’ meant, but Jared just stared at him.

“Wow, Jensen. You’re really fucking drunk. You’re a lightweight, aren’t you? You had what, 3 beers? Okay, let’s get you inside.” Jared got out of his car and walked around to Jensen’s side. He pulled him out and half-walked half-carried him to the apartment Jensen indicated was his.

 

******************************************************************************

 

The next morning Jensen woke up feeling like shit. Obviously he felt like shit. He’d drunk too much beer and not enough water. And to top it off, his memory was really fuzzy. He knew Jared had helped him inside, and he remembered something about ‘The Padalecki’. He also knew that if he didn’t stop putting his fucking foot in his mouth every time Jared was within earshot he’d have to cut his own tongue out. Jensen was fond of his tongue. It helped him talk and laugh and eat and do all kinds of tongue-tivities.

He showered and brushed his teeth so that he was feeling moderately human again, then grabbed his books for the day and headed to the TA office in the philosophy building.

The TA office was a little haven for teaching assistants – graduate students who usually graded for professors and occasionally got to teach their own classes. They’d hold office hours in there, but hardly any student wanted to descend to the bowels of their ugly-ass building to talk about philosophy. Subsequently, the TA office was pretty much just a place to hang out with the other philosophy grad students.

When Jensen walked in, Jared was seated at the computer checking his email, or saving orphans, or whatever the hell nice people do. He instantly felt too hot, as more of the prior evening’s events rushed back to him, and he recalled saying something along the lines of:

“You’re really tall, man. But you smell so good. I didn’t know tall people could smell so good. I mean, I’m tall, but I’m me, so I’m not you, and I don’t know how I smell, you know?”

Jensen was pretty sure what he said wasn’t as intelligible as that, but his memory was apparently trying to keep him from having a stroke. Good fucking Christ, what had he done? He certainly can’t ask the Pada – Jared to clear things up for him. Did he hit on him? Did he try to kiss him?

Jensen must have been breathing too loudly or hyperventilating or whatever, because Jared noticed he’d come into the office. The smile Jared offered was genuine, all dimpled, white-toothed, and kind. Jensen was able to relax a little at that.

“Hey man, how are you feeling today? You weren’t making a whole lot of sense last night.”

Jensen couldn’t make eye contact. “Uh, I’m okay. Thanks a lot for the ride. Sorry I was a pain in the ass. I think I have some kind of beer allergy or something. Makes me say stupid shit and act nuts.” Jensen had never been more grateful to have the office empty except for them. Usually there were like seven people crammed in there.

“I don’t think that’s an allergy Jensen. That’s called being drunk, but nice try. So what’s the deal?” Jared gestured to the worn-looking Night Ranger t-shirt Jensen was wearing. “Don’t you have any shirts besides old concert tees?”

And there it was. He knew it. He knew no one could be that nice. Didn’t he know how much Jensen loved music? So what if he wears concert tees all the time? He didn’t go into philosophy so he could wear a suit all fucking day – or a deep douchey v-neck. He didn’t even know how to respond to Jare – The Padalecki’s query.

“I’ve been to a lot of concerts. I buy a t-shirt at every one. I wear the t-shirt. S’not fucking rocket science.”

Jared held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I’ve just always seen you in like, the same five shirts, so I was just wondering. They’re cool shirts, man.”

“Fuck you. I knew you couldn’t be that nice.” Jensen stormed out of the office in search of caffeine.

As he walked toward the café, Jensen reflected on the events of the past two minutes. Okay, so he knew he was probably over reacting, over compensating for making such a fucking fool of himself last night. Why did he have to take it out on Jare – The Pad – whatever? It was just a question about his shirts, but he freaked the fuck out. And maybe he’s always known Jared to be a nice guy; he just didn’t want to accept it because it killed him that this kid could blow into the program and just start kicking so much ass at everything and be totally humble and cool.

After getting his coffee and heading back to the office, Jensen had come to the following conclusions: 1) Jared really was a nice person. He did not and does not deserve any shit from Jensen. 2) All the shit he projected on to Jared was a self-defense mechanism because Jensen is a too-competitive asshole and needs to deal with that, not take it out on others. 3) Yes, Jared is really fucking hot and smells really fucking good. But he also seems like excellent friend material. Therefore, Jensen wants to be Jared’s friend. 4) He thinks he could maybe, possibly, perhaps see himself kissing Jared, but he only just met the real Jared, and Jensen Ackles doesn’t rush into shit. Well, except for judging people. He rushes like a bull into that. But he wants a friend. Besides, it’s pointless being in a relationship with someone in the same field because if it ever gets serious enough to where you want to spend your lives together, you’re pretty fucked because it’s really hard to get a job in philosophy in the same state, let alone the same school. It isn’t worth the potential heartache. 5) Jensen needs to be nicer. Jared is nice. Maybe he could get nice lessons from him. 6) He needed to find Jared and apologize profusely.

So Jensen has issues. Who the hell doesn’t?


	3. Chapter 3

Jared was stunned. He didn’t know what he’d said or done to Jensen to make him so angry, but he was confused as hell. “I just asked about his shirts. Fuckin’ hell, man.” He was still alone in the office and was grateful; his bizarro run-in with Jensen rattled him.

Feeling really awful about the whole ordeal, Jared figured he’d stay out of Jensen’s way. He headed toward the library, weighed down by the piles of worry that kept building inside him. He didn’t know why Jensen hated him. He felt like he’d started making some headway with the man and then it just crashed and burned because he’d decided to ask Jensen a question about his fucking shirt.

He needed advice. He needed Misha.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text asking Misha to meet him at the café around the corner from the philosophy building. After he got a quick reply from Misha, Jared looked up from his phone and spotted Jensen moving briskly toward the philosophy building. He muttered, “Probably coming back to scald me with hot coffee, or something,” as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed to the café where Misha said he’d meet him in ten minutes. It really drove Jared nuts when people didn’t like him.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Misha was Jared’s first friend in the program. He was a little odd, but Jared found him to be one of the most endearing people he’d ever met. And he was kind. Jared loved kindness. He believed everyone had some kindness in them somewhere; even Jensen Ackles, who, since Jared met him, seems to have made it his personal mission to make sure he knew he was hated.

“But, Misha, bowling was different than class, you know? He was human! I mean, practically human. He was the nicest he’s ever been. And he was all sweet and squishy when I took him home after bowling. Yeah, he was drunk, sure, but I don’t know, he was just…nice.”

Misha stared into his coffee like it contained the answers to the questions he was wrestling with in his dissertation. “Fucking Nietzsche,” he said.

“Nietzsche? Mish, are you even listening to me?”

“Jared. Of course I’m listening to you. I can pay attention to you and Nietzsche at the same time. Anyway, let me give you some advice about Jensen. I’ve known him for almost two years now, and he’s one of those guys that takes a lot of getting used to. He’s reserved and shy, but at the same time he loves to goof around and make people laugh. And philosophy means everything to him. He told me it’s all he’s wanted to do since he took his first class in it at twenty. So he sort of has tunnel vision when it comes to his career. Philosophy is really fucking hard for him, you know? Jensen’s brilliant. He is. But he has to work really hard at it all the time, otherwise he feels like he will fail. So he’s wound tight, man. And when you came into the program and fucking blew everyone out of the water, it freaked him out. But he’s a good person. He’s fiercely loyal. You just have to get to his chewy, nougat center.”

Jared stared open-mouthed at Misha. It’s not like the man doesn’t like to talk, but he wasn’t expecting a prepared speech, or anything. “Shit, Misha. Where did all that come from? I’ve never heard you say that much about anyone…except dead philosophers.”

Misha smiled. “And you still haven’t, Jared. Well, not really, anyway. I just sort of applied Nietzsche’s stuff about Apollo and Dionysus to Jensen. Jensen’s got two sides: an Apollonian side and a Dionysian side. The former rules his academic life while the latter comes out when he’s relaxed, I guess.” He paused and took a drink of his coffee. “Don’t give me that look, Jared. Everything I said about Jensen is 100% true. He is all of those things and more, I’m sure. Just talk to him. He probably feels really bad about snapping at you. Jensen’s a really nice guy, and I’m sure he’d be happy to know about the crush you’re fostering for him.”

Jared spit his coffee across the room. Seriously. It was the kind of spit you see in movies, or old Three Stooges shorts. Coffee went everywhere: all over him, the floor, and who knows where else. Jared was just happy he didn’t spit on anyone; death by embarrassment is far preferable to death by someone he spit on. “CRUSH? Misha. No. What? I don’t have a crush on him. I just. I just want to be his friend, you know? The little bit of time he spent not hating me was really rewarding.” Jared continued mopping coffee off his hoodie, cursing himself for using so much sugar because he was getting stickier by the second.

“Okay, Jared. I’m sorry. Forgive me for mistaking the little tail-feather fan dance you were doing for Jensen at bowling for a mating ritual. You’re not subtle, Jared. You can have a crush on Jensen. It’s not a big deal.”

Misha calmly sipped his coffee while Jared sputtered on about friendship and his zero interest in Jensen as anything other than a friend. Jared wished he could be as mellow as Misha, but this was serious business. He really wanted Jensen to be his friend. He didn’t even know why. He was just drawn to him.

And, okay, it’s not like he didn’t notice how amazing Jensen looks. Seriously. Jared wondered every now and again how it’s possible for someone to be so beautiful. It’s like, impossible, or something, but it totally is possible because Jensen actually exists and he’s really fucking breathtaking. Jared considers himself an aesthete; he appreciates beauty everywhere. He just can’t help that all of the beauty he’s ever seen seems to have manifested itself as Jensen Ackles.

Jared’s also the direct type. He knows he needed to talk to Jensen, because sitting and fretting doesn’t do anyone any good. And at least he will know if Jensen truly despises him or if he’s as awesome as Misha says he is. Jared’s a nice guy; he will give friendship a shot.

But if he’s gonna try and talk to Jensen, he needs reinforcements. He needs beer.

 

***************************************************************************

 

Jared was in his car on his way home from the little store near campus. He had everything he needed for the talk he’s going to have with Jensen that Jensen isn’t even aware of. See, Jared had a plan: get to his apartment, settle down with a beer and some mini corn dogs, and call Jensen. He only had his phone number because of the bowling roster, but he thinks that’s a legit enough reason to have/use the number to talk to him. The last thing Jared wants is to come off as a creeper.

Just as he’d turned onto the block that takes him past campus en route to his apartment, the skies opened up and the rain pounded down on his windshield. As he neared a stoplight, he cranked his windshield wipers higher and noticed a very Jensen-shaped figure crossing in front of him – and he was soaking wet.

Jared is super-totes-mega-jumbo screwed and about to choke on his own tongue.


	4. Chapter 4

Rolling up on a wet Jensen wasn’t something Jared ever thought he’d experience. Not that Jared sat around creating scenarios in which he’d run into Jensen. Really. But now that he saw what a wet Jensen looked like, he knew the image would be forever seared into his brain.

Fucked = Jared.

He rounded the corner so he could pull over and get Jensen’s attention. He rolled down the passenger side window and shouted at the man who could work ‘wet’ like nobody’s business. Or wait. No. Jensen made wet look like it was his job and he was employee of the millennium. The weather was still warm, but the rain couldn’t have been. Jensen’s Night Ranger t-shirt now clung to him like it was painted on, and the jeans that were nicely fitted earlier that morning now clung to him like he’d been poured into them.

 ~~Fucked~~ Superfucked = Jared.

******************************************************************************

Upon hearing someone shouting his name, Jensen glanced in the direction of the voice and saw that the sound emanated from Jared. Shit. It’s not that Jensen wasn’t relieved to see him; he wasn’t far from his apartment, but he was carrying his laptop in his backpack and said bag was getting wetter by the moment. But being soaked put Jensen in a foul mood and it was his foul mood that got him into trouble with Jared in the first place. Now Jared was offering him a ride home, even after Jensen had treated him like shit, and the last thing he wanted to greet Jared with was his piss poor attitude.

He opened up the back door of the car and set his bag on the backseat. He then opened the front door and collapsed into the seat.

“Shit, Jared, you’re a total lifesaver, man. Wet jeans are like the grossest thing in the world and I was seriously beginning to plan a funeral for my laptop.” Jensen was trying his best to be as grateful as possible. He was super grateful, but he figured being as kind as he knew how was a good avenue to head down.

“It’s cool. I couldn’t let you stay out in the rain. There’s a hoodie there in the back if you want to put it on. Might help you warm up a bit.” As he said that he switched on the heater.

“You sure you don’t mind? I feel like I’m ruining your seat, not to mention the fact that I was a complete asshole to you today and now you’re offering me your hoodie?” Jensen was a little awed by Jared’s kindness. Okay, that’s fucking settled, he thought, he really is just nice. He leaned over the back seat to reach for the hoodie Jared offered.

******************************************************************************

They hadn’t yet pulled away from the curb, as Jared wanted to wait until Jensen was settled in and seatbelted and all the other safety shit he obsessed over. That’s what he told himself anyway. In actuality he was mildly paralyzed because as she shifted out of the way to allow Jensen more room to reach the hoodie he noticed Jensen’s t-shirt had bunched up and stuck itself just under his ribcage. The shirt was at some fucked up kind of jaunty angle, as if Jensen’s belly had pushed it up to say “Hai, Jared!” Jared had an overwhelming urge to reach up and wring the water out of Jensen’s shirt just so he could watch it run down into the gap between his hip bone and the dip that led to his...

 _Seriously, Jared, you are not thinking about his, well, anything at all. The man clearly doesn’t like you._

******************************************************************************

“Jared, look. I like you. And I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for the hissy fit I threw in the office today.” Jensen had settled back into his seat and pulled the hoodie over his head. He felt a bit more comfortable now, what with the cozy fleecy feeling of the hoodie and the irresistible smell it surrounded him in. This must be what Jared smells like, he reasoned. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but something about it reminded him of hot chocolate.

As he pulled into traffic and headed toward Jensen’s apartment Jared said, “Thank you. I just. I just couldn’t figure out what I’d done. And I had this plan to call you and confront you about it, not like, in a mean way, but just you know, to find out. It’s been gnawing at me all day.”

“I’ve always had this thing where I’m quick to judge people. I don’t mean to do it. I hate that I do it. I can see when I do it and it’s like I’m helpless to stop it. It’s absurd, I know, but that’s just how I am. I’m trying to fix it. But I didn’t like you. I couldn’t stand you actually.”

Jared laughed as he turned into the parking lot of the building that housed Jensen’s apartment. “Awesome, Jensen, thanks.”

“No, but that’s just it. I jumped to too many conclusions. You’re so fucking smart, man. And the way you walked through the qualifying exams like you’d written them wrecked me. I couldn’t deal with it. So instead of being happy for you, I became this ridiculous reactionary. So yeah, I’m so, so sorry. I really hope you can forgive me, because I’d like to be your friend.”

Jared stared at him. Jensen thought he looked a little stunned. He would be too, he figured, if someone who’d been treating him like he was a destroyer of worlds just spewed out all this personal shit disguised as an apology.

“Okay, well, you know, think about it. Or something.” He opened the door and exited the car, reaching in through the back door to grab his bag and get the fuck out of there. He had just spilled his guts and while he wouldn’t blame Jared for never wanting to speak to him again, he didn’t like the idea of Jared burning his entrails with a verbal firebomb of “Fuck you, man.”

******************************************************************************

The door slammed and Jared watched as Jensen darted through the downpour toward his building.

“I want to be your friend, too,” Jared whispered into the silence. He cursed himself for being so dumbstruck by Jensen’s apology. He knew he wouldn’t see Jensen until they bowled again on Monday, and Jared wasn’t one to leave things hanging.

“Damn it,” he swore, shutting off his car. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and drew a deep breath. He threw open the car door and stepped into the rain. His long legs got him to Jensen’s door quickly, quicker than he liked, actually. So he stood there, staring at the door to Jensen’s apartment like he could will Jensen to open the door without his having to knock. Stop being a baby, Padalecki, and knock on his fucking door.

******************************************************************************

After he’d kind of fallen into his apartment, Jensen realized he’d forgotten to give Jared back his hoodie. “Oops,” he said. And as he stood in the tiny expanse of his efficiency, he gathered up the neck of the hoodie, held it to his nose, and inhaled deeply. He lost himself for a moment as he stood there smelling the Jaredness of the hoodie and trying to figure out what the hoodie really smelled like, you know, besides hot chocolate, and why it was so fucking intoxicating to him. His brain was just about to latch on to a clue, something hovering on the edge of sunshine and happiness when a knocking at the door startled the shit out of him and made him blush furiously at the realization that he’d been zoning out while huffing mystery scent – fucking awesome mystery scent, at that – from a hoodie that belonged to an obscenely hot guy who probably couldn’t stand him.

 _Knock knock knock._

 _Fuck, Jensen!_ He chastised himself. _Stop spacing out and answer the door!_

Jensen froze as he reached for the doorknob, because the knocker spoke: “Jensen? It’s Jared. You there, man?”


	5. Chapter 5

Jensen opened the door for Jared and did his best to avoid looking like he was just trying to mainline the man’s hoodie through his nose.

“Hey, Jared. Did you come back to get your hoodie? I’m sorry I bolted. I was just tired of being wet, and I felt awkward, and, yeah. Wanna come in?” Jensen turned away from the door to allow Jared in, and started to pull the hoodie up over his head. That’s when he felt hands on him.

He felt like a defective computer, or something. How many times was he going to freeze up? But God, Jared’s hand was so warm on his skin. He wanted to be able to fold himself up into a tiny ball so Jared could carry him around in his hands all day. Jensen needed caffeine, or something. Seriously, a tiny ball?

****************************************************************************

Jared had no fucking clue what possessed him to reach out and touch Jensen when he did. Well, he had no idea what possessed him besides the fact that when Jensen began taking his hoodie off he got another glimpse of the very stomach he believed was taunting him earlier. And the way Jensen nervously rambled was too cute to resist. So he grabbed Jensen, placing one hand on his waist while he used the other to pull the hoodie back down.

“No, Jensen, you can hold on to it until bowling. I sort of live in hoodies, so I have a ton of them back at my place.” _Besides_ , he thought, _you look like you were made to wear my hoodie. Not anyone else’s. Mine._

Where the fuck did that come from?

He lifted his hands off Jensen and watched as he shrugged the hoodie back down his torso. He was going to miss that skin.

“Um, I’m sorry to come back and bug you, but I’m not one to leave things unresolved. I need a sense of completion about stuff, you know? Anyway, what I mean is, I’d really like to be your friend, too.”

*****************************************************************************

Jensen was a connoisseur of smiles; he enjoyed entertaining people (when he wasn’t being a dick, that is) and their smiles told him a lot. He looked at the curve of lips, the shape of teeth, whether the smile traveled across a person’s face, and all that sort of smile-specific stuff. But the smile Jared gave him, an offer-of-friendship smile, nearly broke Jensen’s heart. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he could see a hint of fear just behind the hopeful look in his eyes, or perhaps he didn’t realize that for all Jared’s bowling shit-talk and bravado he was capable of or could be affected by the kind of shyness that made itself known through a tiny tremble in his upper lip; or it could have been that his dimples, when out, changed his face dramatically. Jensen wasn’t sure why Jared’s smile affected him far more profoundly than any other smile he’d ever seen, but in that moment he knew he had to have Jared around as much as possible.

Jensen shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable in his still-wet clothing. “Yeah? That’s great, Jared. I was worried when I spewed all my nonsense in the car and you just sat there looking catatonic. Um, so friends. Cool. Well, since you’re here you wanna hang out? We could study together, or something. I’d suggest going to the café or the library, but I am so not in the mood to go back out in that shit.”

Jared smiled brightly, and Jensen felt a tremor run through him. Fucking wet clothing. “I’d totally like to hang out here. I just have to run to the car and get my bag. I have beer and tiny corndogs in the car, too!”

“I fucking love tiny corndogs! I mean, not as much as I love fried pickles, but yeah, go grab your stuff. I’m gonna hop in the shower, so make yourself at home.”

With that, Jensen took 3 steps to the left into the bathroom, and Jared turned and took one step out the door. Jensen’s apartment was seriously small.

*****************************************************************************

Jared hauled ass to his car to avoid getting any wetter than he was, then hauled ass back to the apartment. He hoped Jensen would still be in the shower; he wanted to snoop a little. Jared had a thing for looking at people’s book, music, and movie collections when he’d visit their home. He liked to know what he was dealing with. And seeing as how he and Jensen were gonna be friends, he needed to know if it would be an easy time, or a fucking uphill climb. Easy time = the presence of albums from the likes of Muse, The Smiths, Ash, Kent, and movies like _Spaceballs_ , _Annie Hall_ , and _High Fidelity_. The uphill climb would begin if he saw a Nickelback CD or something. He shuddered at the thought. He already knew the kinds of philosophy Jensen was into, so he wasn’t worried about that.

Jensen’s movie taste varied, and that made Jared happy. He saw the Harry Potter movies, all the _Friday the 13th_ movies, _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ , and even TV shows like _Home Movies_ and _Psych_. He was salivating at the idea of getting to talk to Jensen about this stuff. He was dying to meet someone who had the same sorts of pop culture tastes.

Just as Jared was about to start peeking at Jensen’s music collection, he heard the door to the bathroom open and he did a kind of half-dive/half-flail onto the futon. He quickly realized the futon was also Jensen’s bed. Fuck. His bed? _Too late now_ , he thought. _I’ve committed to looking snoop-innocent, so here I’m gonna stay._

******************************************************************************

Jensen had a feeling of nervous excitement running through him while he was in the shower. He wasn’t sure what it was about Jared, but the fact that the man was willing to be his friend made him really happy. And nervous. Like, really nervous.

He didn’t want to make Jared wait too long, so he hurried through his shower, did a half-assed job of drying off, and threw on the underwear and jeans he’d brought into the bathroom with him. Opening the door, he could swear he saw Jared’s lank-monster body flying through the air. Smiling, he stepped out into the “living room” as he was still pulling his shirt over his head.

“Jared? What were you up to? Seeing if I’m worthy of your friendly affections?” He smirked as Jared’s face went from looking dumbstruck to “oh fuck” to a veil of innocence. Waiting for Jared’s answer, he wondered, _Was he checking me out?_

“Uh. No?”

“Dude, I saw you hurtling through the air at like, mach 10. If you want to know what kind of music and movies I like you can just ask.” Jensen was trying really hard to ignore the fact that Jared looked good on his bed...couch...futon. Whatthefuckever.

“I wasn – wait. What? How’d you know that’s what I was doing? And dude, why do you not have Dream Warriors?”

“I have _Dream Warriors_ , _dude_ , but it’s at home because my sister wanted to watch it when I last visited.” He lowered his head, blushing slightly. “And I knew you were creeping around because I do the same thing.” He raised his eyes to look at Jared. “Do I pass?”

Jared sunk lower on the futon and flung his legs out in front of him. “I dunno man. It was a close call there with your lack of Dream Warriors. A movie that awesome isn’t something you just leave behind.” He stretched his arms and tipped his head over the back of the futon. Jensen froze AGAIN. What? You would too if you got a glimpse of Jared Padalecki’s hip dents. Jesus fucking Christ. “Buuut, we can settle this whole thing right now if you tell me who the coolest horror movie villain is. And weigh your options carefully, Mr. Ackles. This shit matters.”

Jensen swallowed hard; not because he was worried about the answer to the question – duh, everyone knows it’s Pinhead – but because he really wanted to turn toward the kitchen but couldn’t because of the tractor beam Jared’s hips had him in. Jensen had no problems admitting to himself that Jared was searingly hot, but he wasn’t about to perv all over him when they’d just agreed, like 20 minutes ago, to be friends. And they’d already started falling into such easy banter. Jensen lived for banter.

“Corndogs!” He finally shouted, and Jared jumped like he’d been stuck with an electric cattle prod.

“What the hell? No, Jensen. That’s – what? Oh! Yeah, corn dogs. Here” Jared reached in his bag and handed them over.

Jensen thought he was gonna stroke out from the embarrassment of acting like such an idiot.

“Sorry, man. I spaced a little. I was lost in the serious consideration of your question and realized that if we wanted to eat this century we should put the corn dogs in. Pinhead.”

“Prick.”

“No, Jared. Pinhead. From _Hellraiser_? That’s the most bad ass motherfucker there is. And don’t even trrrrryyyy to argue with me on that one.”

“I knew what you meant.” I so didn’t know what you meant. “That’s an acceptable answer, Jensen. I would have accepted Freddy or Jason as well, but I totally would have judged you for taking the easy out on that one. Well done!”

Jensen opened two beers and handed one to Jared as he settled next to him on the futon. “Thanks. I don’t fuck around when it comes to horror movies. I’m sorry there’s not a lot of work room in here. I hope you’re comfortable.”

“No it’s fine, really. I just have to do some reading, and I don’t need a load of space for that. Besides, it’s cozy in here.” He pulled Being and Time out of his bag and started reading.

Jensen watched Jared for a while as he read. He was supposed to be reading Being and Time as well, but Jared’s way prettier than Heidegger, and he liked people-watching. He noticed that when Jared read he got this inverted triangle of lines on his forehead, and he’d play with his pencil. He could spin it around his fingers. Jensen always wanted to be able to do that. And Jared’s hands we sort of, well, amazing. And entrancing. And mesmerizing. And – “Jensen?”

“Huhwhat?”

“The oven’s beeping. I think the corndogs are done. And you’re totally busted, by the way.”

Jensen had leapt off the couch like a fucking gazelle, face on fire with mortification and embarassmentication and shameness and fuck, his brain was shutting down. This would have been a non-issue if he’d learn to keep his eyes to himself. Friggin’ real-life hand porn.

Pulling the tray out of the oven, Jensen remained in panic mode, brain churning out thoughts a mile a minute. _Oh my God. He totally caught me staring at his hands like a super creep. Should I apologize? How do you tell someone you’re sorry for thinking their hands are hot? Fuck! We’re brand new friends! If our friendship were a puppy its eyes totally wouldn’t be open yet! Alright, Jen, get it together. Just play it off legit. This doesn’t have to be a thing._

He put on his best “I’m totally not freaking the fuck out right now” face on and turned back to Jared after he’d wrangled the corndogs onto a plate for them. “And just what am I busted for?”

Jared took a corndog, but before popping it in his mouth Jensen saw a look cross Jared’s face that reminded him of the Grinch when he got the idea to steal Christmas from Whoville.

 _Oh fuck._


	6. Chapter 6

Jared loved a good tiny corndog. He also loved catching people in the act; it didn’t matter the act, but in this particular instance he felt exhilarated by his crafty catching-in-the-act skills. He’d caught Jensen staring at him. And damn, it felt good. A thrill ran through him; there was no denying it, Jensen was totally checking him out. He felt a sense of relief at this; it made his tummy-staring feel much less perverific.

Whatever Jared did next, how he reacted to his new knowledge, he had to be delicate. How did he approach this? He needed to be subtle. But what came out of his mouth was part subtle and part, well, shit, really. “Jensen?” The look on Jensen’s face was priceless. It was part confusion and part fuuuuuuuck. “The oven’s beeping. I think the corndogs are done. And you’re totally busted, by the way.” Yeah, the first part was subtle and cool. That last part? Not so much. _Well, subtlety’s overrated_ , Jared thought.

Despite his subtlety-fail, Jared felt smug. He knew he was a good looking guy. It’s not like he’s never dated or been hit on, or anything. But there was something about just having Jensen spacing out while staring at his hands that made him feel all warm and fuzzy and excited.

But shit! They’re supposed to be friends. Or trying to be friends. It’s a friends probationary period. Besides, friends can turn into more. It didn’t help that Jensen was so damn hot, and the way he had zeroed in on his hands, eyes all intense, just did way too much for him. He needed to dial this back down to like a three. Jared was amping it up to seven. New friends don’t operate on sevens.

While Jensen was putting the corndogs on the plate, Jared searched the recesses of his mind for what Jensen could have done (that wasn’t staring longingly at Jared’s hands) to warrant Jared saying he was busted. Treading lightly was the order of the day.

Jensen offered him the plate and Jared took a corndog, shoving it his mouth to buy him a little thinking time. “And just what am I busted for?” Jensen asked.

And then it occurred to him. It was genius. He felt the corners of his mouth curl impossibly high. Jared flashed back to the brief scan he’d been able to do of Jensen’s apartment. As an extension of his catching-in-the-act skills, Jared prided himself on his observational skills. He liked to think of himself as a kind of real life Shawn from _Psych_ sometimes. Except for the fake psychic crime fighting thing, that is. Maybe Jensen could be his Gus! _Now’s not the time, Padalecki._

“Dude. How do you not already know what I’m talking about?” Jared gestured in the general direction of Jensen’s bookshelf.

***************************************************************************

Jensen didn’t have the slightest fucking clue why Jared was gesturing at the bookshelf when he’d clearly caught him red-handed – er, red-eyed – staring at those incredible hands. Maybe this was Jared just being nice again, deflecting the awkwardness of the situation.

“I swear to you I have no idea what you mean, Jared. I promise. I’ve done absolutely nothing that’s bust-worthy.” _Please be convincing, please be convincing, please buy my doe-eyed innocent look._

Jared launched himself up off the futon just as Jensen settled back down on it. The little plate of corndogs almost ended up on the floor, but Jensen was too entranced by Jared’s theatrics to be overly concerned. He watched as Jared walked up to the bookshelf and turned to face him. Then, as he kept their eyes locked, he reached out his left arm and pointed. _Oh fuck_ , Jensen thought. _He would have seen that._

Jared had his eyebrows raised in a kind of playful yet accusatory stare. With his right hand on his hip, he extended the fingers that weren’t pointing at the book and tipped it out of its slot on the shelf. He held the book at that angle, never looking at it, and said, “Jensen? What the fuck is this?”

He was referring, of course, to Ayn Rand’s _The Virtue of Selfishness_. “Oh. Yeah. That. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for that.” Jensen felt so much better that he was busted for a stupid book and not for his incredible capacity to act like a fucking moron when Jared was within 20 feet of him. He was still reeling from the debacle that was him confessing to Jared he thought he was pretty.

“Mm hm. Let’s hear it. And it better be good, because no self-respecting philosopher has Rand, dude.”

“One of my areas of research is ethics, Jared. My mom loves to contribute to my education however she can. Unfortunately, she doesn’t really get what counts as good and bad philosophy, so she just buys whatever. Her heart’s in the right place. And I can’t just get rid of it. My mom got it for me, for Christ’s sake.”

“Apology accepted.” He loved the look Jared was giving him; it was playful, but there was something behind it, too. Something a little dangerous. But dangerous in a really hot way.

Jensen returned Jared’s playful look with what he hoped was one of his own. “I’m sorry you felt personally affronted by a gift from my mother, Jared. You know, I have some underwear she bought me, do you wanna check those over and see if they meet with your approval as well?” The words had no sooner left his mouth when Jensen thought he was going to throw up from embarrassment. How could he possibly have thought about inviting Jared to look at his underwear?

******************************************************************************

The calm, cool, and collected vibe Jared felt himself exuding over the awesome way he’d saved himself from revealing to Jensen his excitement about being checked out by him shattered as soon as Jensen started joking about his underwear.

The first thoughts that had popped into his head were: _I’ve seen your underwear. I saw it when you were stretching to get your bag. I couldn’t approve more._ But you just don’t go saying shit like that to your new friend.

Jared took the one long stride necessary to get him back to sitting on the futon before replying to Jensen’s comment. “I will keep that in mind for when I may need to judge you further.” _Phew. That was close. Nice reply, Jared. Well done. Tip-top. Shut up!_ He picked his book up and returned to reading. And if he resumed playing with his pencil, going so far as to tap it against his lips and pull it into his mouth a few times, who could blame him? Feeling Jensen’s eyes on him was addicting.

******************************************************************************

Jensen gathered his stuff for the bowling alley and waited for Jared to pick him up. After their semi-awkward first evening together, things had gone surprisingly well for them. He really liked Jared. Like, a lot. And he was pretty sure Jared liked him, too. They got along so well, and Jensen couldn’t help but be a little grateful to Jared for giving him the chance to prove to him he wasn’t as much of an asshole as he appeared to be.

There were three weeks left on the bowling schedule for the semester, which also meant four weeks left in the fall semester of school. This time of year was always stressful for any student, but for grad students, it was like climbing up a ridiculously high hill while wearing shoes that don’t fit right so they give you blisters and when you get to the top of the hill you get your head kicked in. The end of the semester was bittersweet for grad students, because there was a light at the end of the tunnel that signaled winter break, but to get closer to the light you had to do a fuck ton of work.

Jensen got Jared’s text that he was down in his car waiting, and a little wiggle of excitement ricocheted around in his belly. They’d been hanging out for over four weeks now, spending whatever spare time they had studying, writing, grading, or bowling. They’d established a kind of routine. Every Monday after bowling the team would retire to the Annex – a skeezy dive bar near campus, complete with permanently sticky floors and a table where the philosophers always hung out – to continue their fun.

Jensen had begun wishing everyday was Monday, especially when Jared smiled at him like he did every Monday when Jensen opened the car door.

Jensen liked routine. He was a creature of habit. Jared had become a habit for him.


	7. Chapter 7

Jared had no idea what his problem was. Okay, he had some idea. Jensen was a serious fucking distraction, and it was affecting his bowling. The first game he was bowling really well, just above his average. He got to the 10th frame and something just, well, Jared didn’t know.

He walked up to the line, did his approach the way he always does, and bowled a strike. Because it was the 10th frame, he got two more throws. On his approach to his second throw, something was off. He took an extra step, but was lucky enough to get another strike.

But the third throw? Holy shit. He literally couldn’t do his approach. It was muscle memory for him, but his muscles decided to fuck him over by adopting temporary amnesia. He had to go back to the starting line twice and still couldn’t walk properly. He finally gave up, stomped up to the line, yelled, and threw the ball down the alley. There was no strike that time.

So what happened? Well, just before he got out of his seat to bowl the final frame of the first game, Jensen had come up behind him, pitcher of beer in hand. It was Jensen’s night to buy the beer for the team and as he was set the pitcher on the table, he leaned into and over Jared and whispered, “Don’t rush it, Jared.”

It was an innocent enough comment. Jared didn’t think Jensen was deliberately trying to turn him on or anything, but the way his breath caressed his ear sent jolts of adrenaline-fueled nervous energy through him.

And just like that, Jensen broke Jared’s bowling-fu.

After throwing the ball from the pathetic approach-that-would-not-be-named, Jared turned on his heel and gave his teammates his best puppy eyes, hoping he’d get a pity pat on the back from them or something.

“What the fuck, Jared?” Chad shouted.

“I don’t know, man. I just. I couldn’t walk. I must have psyched myself out wanting that 3rd strike. I’m sorry guys.”

Misha sipped his beer and looked knowingly at Jared – well, it felt like a knowing look to Jared, anyway – and said, “It’s okay, Jared. It’s hard to bowl with the breeze in here.”

Goddamned Misha didn’t miss a thing. All Jared could do was laugh nervously in reply.

Meanwhile, Chris had returned from his trip to the lane looking smug. Stupid Jensen didn’t break _his_ stride. “Jared. Care to explain what happened? You aren’t exactly the type to forget how to bowl – or walk.” Chris didn’t look mad, exactly, just sort of, peeved. Chris looked terrifying when he was mad.

Jared plopped in his seat next to Jensen and covered his face with his hands while he rested his elbows on the table. “I don’t know. I don’t know! I’m so sorry, guys. Seriously. That’s never happened. I don’t know.”

A hand landed on Jared’s back and rubbed a couple of soothing circles on it. Jared tensed. He knew it was Jensen’s hand.

“Jared. Relax. It’s okay. You know we just like to give our star bowler shit. It’s not a big deal. You still threw a 258, and that’s really fucking good. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Jared raised his head. “Thanks, man.” He already missed Jensen’s hand. He knew they had to talk about whatever it was they had to talk about. They’d been flirting – or something – for weeks now, pretty much since they’d become friends. And Jared had caught Jensen checking him out. He’d certainly checked Jensen out. A lot. Wouldn’t you?

The rest of the evening at the bowling alley went off without anymore walking catastrophes, and Jared was able to relax, sort of. He loved being around Jensen. He vibrated around him, like he was so excited to be near Jensen all his nerves had to fire at once and he couldn’t sit still.

“Misha, you cannot seriously be considering metaphysics as one of your areas. It’s like, against everything we all love about philosophy! For fuck’s sake, man, they talk about bullshit like whether you’re the same person you were when you were six because of your cellular composition and what happens in “possible” worlds. Possible worlds, Collins! You seriously want to wax philosophical about what you might be doing right now in some other world?” Jared was amused by Chad’s flip-out. Chad liked ethics. He liked things that mattered to people. Chad may have had a big mouth, but he cared about a lot of shit.

“Well, Chad, if that other world featured me not having you bitch at me about studying possible worlds and personal identity, then yes, I do want to examine that further.” Misha smirked at Chad; he loved winding him up.

“Fuck you, Collins. Who will it benefit? Philsophy is supposed to be about stuff that really matters to human existence. Living the good life and shit like that.”

Jared could tell Chad wanted Misha to get into this debate with him; Chad lived to debate. Misha lived to bug the shit out of Chad. It was working.

“Alright, guys,” Chris said. “Why don’t you both just admit that the shit you both study is worthless and be done with it?”

“Remind us what you study again, Chris.” Jared knew the answer, but he needed to do more in this conversation than observe while he tried to get his leg to touch Jensen’s as much as possible without it looking like he was trying to do it. Damn swivel chairs and Jensen’s apparent love of them. He just kept rotating back and forth, and Jared wanted to touch. It was maddening.

“Descartes. Well, the Rationalists in general, but Descartes mainly,” Chris replied.

“Kane, you only got into Descartes because you love _The Matrix_ so much,” Jensen teased. Misha and Chad each gave Chris looks that said, ‘yeah, what he said’.

“My point exactly, Jen. The shit I like’s been made into kick-ass movies. Kick-ass movies totally contribute to living a good life.” Chris looked like he’d just cured cancer or something. He was totally proud of himself.

“Point,” Misha said, winking at Chris.

“Oh, what the fuck ever, Kane.” Chad pouted. He didn’t have a snappy comeback for that one. His foul mood didn’t last long, though. That was something Jared noticed and really appreciated about these guys: they could bitch at each other and totally cut down the work they all do, but in the end they all really respected one another and knew that what they studied mattered, if only to them. But it was enough.

*****************************************************************************

Team Platonic Love had won again. This called for drinks at the Annex. Well, they always went to the Annex after bowling, but any excuse worked.

Jensen had had a great time at bowling; of course he did, Jared was there. And he couldn’t help but feel a little smug when Jared got all flustered after he’d whispered in his ear. He’d noticed that Misha saw it, too. Maybe Misha knew something he didn’t. Jensen made a mental note to talk to Misha very soon.

While Chad, Misha, and Chris went to shoot pool, Jensen and Jared sat at the unofficially official philosophy table at the front of the Annex near one of the bar’s big front windows.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna hit the jukebox.” Jensen watched Jared make his way over to the jukebox; despite the presence of quite a few people in the small bar, Jared was pretty much impossible to lose. Dude was giant as hell. That did things for Jensen.

Jensen sat and examined the table. It seemed that philosophy students from his program had been coming to this table for years. There was all kinds of stuff carved into it; stuff that only nerdy-ass philosophers would get. For example, there was a Heidegger joke that always killed Jensen when he read it: “A guy tries to go into a store, but finds the door locked. A passerby says to him, ‘hey, can’t you see the store’s closed?’ The guy responds to the passerby saying, ‘but Dasein says it’s open.’” It’s really funny if you read Heidegger.

Jensen was running his index finger along the grooves the various carvings left in the table when Jared returned looking excited. “Every time we come here I forget how great the jukebox is! I played some gems.”

Jensen loved the way Jared’s eyes glittered when he was really excited about something. It struck him every once in a while that Jared was really beautiful. Not that he ever thought he wasn’t good-looking, far from it. But sometimes, when he least expected it, Jared would smile and Jensen was kicked in the gut with longing. And he didn’t even know if Jared was gay.

What? They hadn’t had the conversation. It hadn’t come up. Jensen knew that Jared was aware he was gay; his verbal diarrhea the first night Jared bowled with the team saw to that. But he didn’t ask Jared if he was gay. It wasn’t his business. He didn’t go around asking people if they were straight, or bisexual, or any other sexuality; he didn’t think people needed to proclaim in either. But man, he wished he knew about Jared.

He had a feeling he was gay…or bi-…or at least Jensen-inclined. The way Jared looked at him sometimes made him feel like he was going to spontaneously combust. He thought if Jared’s real fucking was as good as his eye-fucking he had to be made of magic or something.

Jensen had had a glass of whiskey and, coupled with the beer at the bowling alley, he was feeling a little braver than usual. Or dumber. He wasn’t sure. But he was determined to get more information from the man who was quickly becoming his best friend and star of all his fantasies – er – dreams.

They’d been chatting about their usual stuff: movies they wanted to see, books they wish they had time to read, and the songs Jared had picked out on the jukebox. Jared was in the middle of a campaign to convince Jensen that Haven was a television show he ‘totally had to watch’ when Jensen blurted out, “Jared? Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

 _Fuck_ , Jensen thought. _That so was not the plan. Okay, there wasn’t a plan, but if there had been one, that question would not have been part of it._

Jared stopped mid-sentence – a sentence that was about two guys named Nathan and Duke and how they were totally in love – and just looked at Jensen. But, you know, really looked at him. Jensen could swear he saw Jared’s eyes go dark for a moment while the tiniest smirk flitted across his lips.

Jensen felt like everything had become too tight in that moment because of that look: his collar, his skin, and most definitely his jeans, especially in his general pelvic area. One look like that from Jared and Jensen was hard as nails. He shifted uncomfortably.

******************************************************************************

Jared hadn’t purposefully left the gay cat in the bag; it just hadn’t come up. But here it was. And Jared figured if he was gonna let the gay cat outta the gay bag, he was gonna wrap the cat up in a rainbow flag and have it sing and dance on its way out.

“If you’re asking me if I gay, Jensen, the answer is yes. As for why I don’t have a boyfriend, well, that one’s a little trickier, I suppose.” He picked up his drink and took a sip while he contemplated how he wanted to lay all his cards out on the table. He didn’t think Jensen would ask him something like that, something that specific, if he wasn’t fishing.

 _Time to turn up the heat_ , Jared thought. He was tired of beating around the bush.

“Um. Well. See, the thing is. I don’t have a boyfriend because I don’t have the guts to ask you out. I think you’re amazing, Jensen. Like, in about eleventy different ways. I love the look of panic that runs across your face whenever you think you’ve said something really stupid, like that!” He pointed at Jensen’s face. “That’s the look! Your eyes. Your gorgeous fucking eyes grow even bigger somehow when you think you’ve fucked up. And it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I just. I really like you. But I know we haven’t been friends that long, and I’ve been dying to ask you out. Like on a date, or something. But I don’t want to fuck anything up. ‘Cause you’re great. You’re so great. You don’t even know, do you? Of course you don’t, because I’m sitting here mooning over you as you sit right in front of me, and you still have that look on your face.”

Jared knew he’d said everything in about a breath and a half, but he had to get it out there. Jensen made him feel all warm and squishy inside and if he didn’t say something, he’d burst. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was short-lived relief, though. The gay cat may have been dancing and singing, but Jensen hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said a fucking word yet. Jared was beginning to think he’d fucked up royally.

“Jensen? Can you talk to me, please? I’m freaking out a little here.”

Jared kept his eyes locked on Jensen’s. Another beat passed and finally, _finally_ , Jensen’s face broke into a shy smile.

“You wanna get out of here, Jared? I mean, no! Not like that. Shit. I mean. I just want to talk about this. Us. Or possible-us. Somewhere that isn’t here. I can’t think in here.” Jared watched Jensen as he bit his bottom lip. Jensen was the cutest nervous boy ever.

Jared felt emboldened. This was going somewhere. They, or potential-they were going somewhere. He walked around to Jensen’s side of the table and stood behind him. He decided it was time for a little payback for earlier. He lowered his head the two or so inches so he could access Jensen’s ear, and he let his lips barely brush the shell as he said, “Yeah, Jensen. Let’s go somewhere else.”

He pulled back and Jensen turned to face him, his eyes huge again, but not with panic this time. This time Jared saw want there. He shivered at the knowledge that he could make Jensen look at him like that by just grazing his ear with his lips. He couldn’t help but think, _Oh, the things I could do to you, Jensen._

******************************************************************************

Jensen’s knees wanted to buckle when Jared’s lips met with his ear. It was a barely-there touch, but holy fucking bloody hell if it didn’t wrack his entire body with need.

He turned to look at Jared, hoping his eyes wouldn’t continue to betray him. Jared must have been made of eyes if he could be that fucking perceptive of Jensen’s emotions. He couldn’t respond verbally to what Jared had just said or done. He nodded dumbly, following Jared out of the bar, watching him as he signaled the others that they were leaving.

Jesus, the way Jared made him feel. Jensen stayed on Jared’s heels, all the while wondering if he had some kind of ear kink or something, because Jared had totally just given him an eargasm.

An eargasm? Seriously? Yes. 100% yes. He felt Jared everywhere in that moment. It was insanely hot, too. Jensen really wanted this thing, this whatever it could become, to go well because he was dying to find out what other special Jensen-melting powers Jared had. He was pretty sure they were legion.


	8. Chapter 8

Jensen wasn’t sure how they’d gotten back to his place. He was still in a Jared-induced haze. He couldn’t believe how a simple whisper, a breath caressing his ear, could turn him on so quickly, so intensely. On top of that, Jared wanted to be with him. Or date him. Or be more than friends. However you wanted to label it, it scared the shit out of Jensen.

Jensen wanted something with Jared. He wanted to be with him, around him, near him, by him, as long as Jared was involved, Jensen was on board. But he also acknowledged the harsh reality of them both getting Ph.D.’s: the odds of them being able to stay together once they’d graduated was slim to none. This knowledge made Jensen’s heart ache.

He knew he was already pretty fucking gone for Jared.

They had gotten into Jensen’s apartment and sort of froze in the middle of the living room/bedroom/dining room/every room because Jensen’s apartment is totally fucking tiny. But that’s beside the point. Because they could be standing in the middle of the Taj Mahal and they’d still be stuck where they were, toe to toe, each breathing shallowly, the air thick with anticipation. Jensen _wanted_.

No matter how much Jensen wanted, however, he was afraid to take. So he stood there and willed with all his might that Jared would make the first move. He finally tore his eyes away from the vise-like grip of Jared’s stare and looked at his toes. He felt like he was going to implode; he couldn’t control his breathing, his pulse raced, and the tips of his fingers twitched with the urge to touch.

“Jensen? I know we need to talk about this. And we will, right?” Jensen kept his eyes downward, but he nodded. “Okay, good. Cause I like to talk about things, and I like to talk to you, and you like to talk to me, so we should be able to talk things through pretty easily.” Jared offered a nervous laugh, and Jensen couldn’t help but smile.

“But right now, Jensen, I can’t think about talking because you’re here, you’re right in front of me, and you’re adorable and you smell really good, like really good, like water and hope, if water and hope actually smelled like something. And I know I sound completely fucking ridiculous, but you make my brain want to quit working and start buzzing. But it feels good, you know?” Jensen looked at Jared. His breath caught. Jared’s eyes were a little glassy, like he was going to cry. He was in awe of Jared. That’s what it was – he realized all those moments when he was dumbstruck by Jared and just had to sit there are stare at him were moments of awe.

He knew he had to say something, any fucking thing, because Jared was pouring his whole heart and brain out in front of him and he was just doing nothing. “Jared, I-”

“No Jensen. Let me talk. I know I’m not making any sense, but I have a point, I swear.” He watched Jared breathe in deeply. “My point is, is that since I’ve met you, even when you were a total fucking dick to me, I’ve liked you. So, can I please kiss you? I’m dying to kiss you. Please say I can kiss you.”

Jared had closed his eyes and scrunched up his face like he was waiting to be punched instead of kissed. That did it. That broke whatever floodgates Jensen had been piling sandbags against because how could he deny that face anything? Sure, he’d worry about the logistics of it all tomorrow or something, because right now, he had to answer Jared. He had to kiss Jared. It was like, a categorical imperative. And why the fuck was he thinking about Kant right now?

“Yeah, Jared.” The confidence he felt wasn’t reflected in his voice. He wanted to shout his yes, but it came out as a whisper. Damn vocal chords fucking up his moment of conviction. _Fuck it_ , he thought, and he grabbed a fistful of Jared’s shirt and pulled him in.

Their lips met, and Jared whimpered, probably out of surprise at Jensen’s boldness, but the whimper sent little shivers down the back of Jensen’s neck. Jared’s lips were like a fucking revelation: they were warm and softer than they looked, and they gave easily when the tip of Jensen’s tongue brushed over the bow of his top lip.

It was Jensen’s turn to moan now, and he felt braver than he ever had around Jared. It may have been because Jared was so pliant in his arms, but in reality, it was probably because Jensen was being pulled toward his futon by a very eager Jared. Jensen was totally on board with eager Jared.

He helped propel them toward the bed, and Jensen felt Jared’s knees go out from under him as he crashed down on top of him with a huff of breath. That didn’t stop them, though; it seemed as though it would take the fucking walls coming down around them to stop what they’d started.

Jensen climbed up Jared like he was a ladder, straddling his hips while never breaking their kiss. And the kissing? Well, shit. Jensen thought he’d rather die than to never get to kiss Jared again. And he thought he’d die if he didn’t get to touch Jared’s skin. So as he kept himself from putting his whole weight on Jared with his left hand, his right hand snaked its way up Jared’s shirt to feel the smooth expanse of Jared’s chest. He wasn’t sure how he could form a coherent thought at all, but Jensen was able to cobble together the thought that Jared’s skin was way better than anything ever in the whole world. And the sounds he kept pulling from him when he grazed Jared’s nipple or scraped his nails down Jared’s ribs were embedding themselves in Jensen’s psyche forever. They’d be filed under “Amazingest” in Jensen’s brain.

Jensen thought the bowling alley felt like home? Fuck no. Jared Padalecki felt like home.

They broke their kisses every once in a while for air, or for confirmation that what they were doing was okay, and with one of Jared’s hands holding the back of his neck to deepen their kisses while his other hand gripped Jensen’s ass so Jared could get leverage and grind their hips together, Jensen couldn’t have felt like anything had ever been more okay than this. And because of said gripping and grinding, peppered with Jared’s breathy moans and mumbled praise like ‘fuck’ and ‘you’re so fucking hot Jensen’, he figured Jared was more than on board, too.

As he was reflecting on how fucking unbelievable Jared’s body felt under his – and Jensen had no idea how he was able to multitask, or multithink, rather, with the hardness of Jared’s cock pressing against him in the best way – Jared had reached between them and popped the button on their jeans. Jensen thought he’d come right then, because he may or may not have fantasized about them in a similar situation. He had it bad for Jared’s hands. And Jared’s hands did not disappoint.

Jared wrapped his hand around both of them, and the heat and pressure of that hand coupled with the searing hotness of their cocks touching forced a kind of guttural groan out of Jensen. He couldn’t help but thrust into Jared’s hand; or at least he thought he couldn’t help it. He may have also been snapping his hips forward because Jared saying, “Jensen, I want you to come with me. Come on me, Jen.” Any inkling of control or pride or whatever sense of self preservation Jensen thought he could muster was fucked, because hearing Jared say ‘come’ all breathy and fucking dirty and sexy in his ear was out the window.

He buried his face in Jared’s neck as his orgasm tore through him faster than he wanted, but it felt fucking amazing nonetheless. As he spilled over Jared’s hand, he felt Jared tense as he growled out an “Oh my God, Jen” and released a moan that made Jensen want to come all over again. Maybe he did. He wasn’t sure. His ability to process well, anything, was gone. He did know, however, that he was stupidly happy, his head fit nicely in the crook of Jared’s neck, and he couldn’t wait to do that all over again.

******************************************************************************

They’d sort of dozed off, and Jensen didn’t wake up until he felt Jared shifting underneath him. “Hey, Jensen. Sorry man. You gotta get up, though. I’m gross and you’re heavy.”

The smile he got from Jared was all warm and soft and Jensen figured he’d do just about anything Jared asked him to. The thing about Jensen? When he fell, he fell hard. So he tried not to fall too often. But Jared was like a well, see, a giant well surrounded by bricks and Jensen felt compelled to look into the well, and of course, he fell into it. He had no Lassie, either, but so far the well was warm and kind and smelled really good, so he wasn’t freaking out...too much…yet.

Jensen rolled off Jared and sat on the end of the futon rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, sorry, Jared. Hey, um, it’s really late, and we’re both tired still. Um, you could stay over, if you want. The futon unfolds. Oh, and you can take a shower, too. But you know, you don’t have to. I don’t really know how all this works. And I can’t seem to shut up.”

Jared smiled warmly at him again as he leaned back against the futon and buttoned his jeans. He then leaned over and kissed Jensen; it was slow, and hot, and sexy as fuck, and Jensen wanted nothing more than to pull Jared on top of him and let him do filthy things, but Jared was pulling away.

“Okay, Jen, I know this is gonna sound like a total blow off, but it’s not. I’d love to stay, I really would, but if I stay,” Jared crowded into Jensen’s space again, this time kissing along his jaw. “I won’t be able to keep myself from - ” Jared didn’t say what he couldn’t keep himself from doing because he was busying his mouth on Jensen’s right shoulder while his hands started to wander south. Jensen’s body seemed to be on autopilot because his hips were tilting upward toward Jared’s touch.

Jared chuckled softly and pulled away. “Shit, Jensen. God, the things I want to do to you. But I don’t want to do that tonight. I just. I think this could be something fucking great and I don’t wanna fuck it up. I want to take things a little slowly. Is that okay?”

 _Um, you’re seriously asking me that after you’ve been making out with my neck? No! NO!_ “Yeah, Jared. Yeah. That’s a good idea.” _But you slamming me up against that wall over there is also a good idea._

Reluctantly, Jared stood up and gathered his coat and car keys. Jensen walked him to the door – okay, he shuffled him to the door because the distance from the futon to the door is like 4 paces; Jensen’s apartment is really fucking small – but before he opened the door for Jared, he turned him around and pulled him down for another kiss. He wanted to make it as hard as fucking possible for Jared to leave.

“God, you taste amazing, Jared.” Jensen finally opened the door for him and rested his head against it. He was so overwhelmed by Jared, so turned on that he could hardly breathe, let alone keep his head up.

Jared leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. Jensen nearly collapsed under the weight of his ridiculous lust, though, when, as he was pulling away, Jared whispered, “Next time, I’ll make you come even harder, Jen.” Then he winked, and fucking sauntered away.

Jesus, that man can make an exit.


	9. Chapter 9

It was the last night of bowling before the winter break, and even though they’d be bowling together next semester, Jensen was always a little melancholy before breaks. He’d miss his friends, he’d miss bowling, and most of all, he’d miss Jared. Since their admission of being in deep like and the subsequent insanely hot evening at his place on his too-small futon, he and Jared had been even more inseparable than before. But because it was the end of the semester and they had grading duties and trees to kill for their term papers, Jared couldn’t make good on the promise – “Next time, I’ll make you come even harder, Jen” – that had Jensen weak in the knees and slightly breathless every time he thought about it. And he thought about it a lot. It followed, then, that Jensen felt like he was becoming asthmatic or needed knee replacement surgery, or both.

Jared had picked him up, as usual, but unlike so many Mondays before, they greeted each other with soft lips, which led to a tangle of tongues, which in turn led to them gasping into each other’s mouths, so turned on they’d considered ditching bowling altogether in favor of sex – or, well, various kinds of sex. Since Jared hadn’t come through on his promise (through no fault of his own) they haven’t moved beyond making each other lose it in their pants like teenagers.

They figured they’d let the rest of the team know about their relationship. They didn’t have the state of the union conversation, but they both knew they were exclusive, and Jensen had heard Jared refer to him as his boyfriend. This made Jensen very warm and squishy inside. Actually, Jensen was beginning to think he didn’t actually have internal organs, but was instead full of oatmeal because whenever Jared was around or when he thought of Jared – okay, so like, all the time – he felt the warmth and squishiness flood into his general stomach region. He could only liken the feeling to what it would probably be like to be made of oatmeal. Mmmm…oatmeal.

“So, how do we want to go about this?”

Jared turned his car into the bowling alley parking lot, answering as he scoped out a spot. “Well, I don’t know. Just the usual way, I guess, right?”

“Okay. Sure…Um, what’s the usual way?”

Jared parked the car and took the keys from the ignition as he turned in his seat to look at Jensen. “Jen, please don’t worry about this. I know you like to have plans and schematics and notes and shit for stuff you have to do, but these are our friends. They’re not gonna care.” He leaned in and kissed the spot on Jensen’s neck that made him squirm. Squirming commenced.

Regaining brain control, but still feeling his cheeks burn from the little bonfire Jared always kept lit inside him, Jensen responded, “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I just. I worry. It’s what I do.”

They opened their car doors and stepped out into the bitter December wind. Gear in tow, they jogged into the building; Jared chose to stay behind Jensen so he could watch “dat ass.” Jensen called him a dork, but felt the oatmeal again; Jensen liked the squish. They were the first to arrive to their table, so they ordered some beer, got their bowling shoes on, and chatted for a while.

“So, Jen, I was thinking, since tonight’s shot anyway – neither of us are gonna do any work after bowling for three hours – I thought we could skip the Annex and hang out at my place. You know, watch a movie, talk about the meaning of life, listen to music, or,” Jensen noticed Jared’s eyes darkened significantly and a wicked smile curled his lips, “fuck.”

Jensen choked on the beer he’d been drinking. Jared laughed and clapped his hands together. “You’re so easy to get, Jen. I love it.” Despite Jared’s teasing, though, the thought of Jared fucking him had Jensen insanely hard in a nanosecond, and the way Jared’s hand was creeping up his thigh indicated that Jared wasn’t completely kidding. Jensen was going to have to invest in an inhaler. Or smelling salts. Or condoms. Lots and lots of condoms. And lube. Plenty of lube. Jensen had plans.

Jensen wanted to see if Jared could take it as well as he could dish it out, so as soon as he recovered the ability to speak he swiveled his chair to face Jared. “Yeah, Jay. I’d like that.” He licked his lips and watched as Jared’s eyes zeroed in on them. “But you know what else I’d like? I’d like to not have to wait. I’d like follow you into the bathroom, lock us in a stall, and make you come down my throat.”

It was Jared’s turn to choke. It delighted Jensen, and he said mockingly, “Oh, Jay. You’re so easy!”

Chad and Misha arrived while Jared was still coughing. “Jay man,” Chad said as he slapped Jared on the back, “you okay?”

Misha gave Jensen a knowing look. Yes. Another knowing look. How did he always know?

*cough* “Uh, yeah. Thanks, Chad. Hey, Misha. How’s it going, guys?”

“Eh, can’t complain. Got my papers almost done, and Professor Lee is giving the students a scantron final exam, so I don’t have to worry about grading. Gentlemen, the Chad is almost a free man!”

“Fuck off, Murray,” Jensen said, though not unkindly. “I don’t want to hear about your charmed life. Lucky bastard. What about you, Misha? How’s your end of the semester torment going?”

“I’d rather not talk about it, Jensen. It took me an hour of meditation earlier to calm down from all the overwhelming shit I have going on, and I don’t want to undo that work. What I do want to talk about is you and Jared.”

“You and Jared what?” Chris said as he set his stuff on the table and began unpacking his shoes and ball.

“You and Jared, Jenny?” Chad asked. “You and Jared what?” Jared and Jensen looked at each other, then at Misha and Chris, and finally at Chad. “Ohhhh. OH! You _and_ Jared! You and Jared? What the fuck? Did you guys know about this?”

Misha and Chris looked at Chad and shrugged, silently confirming that they already knew.

“Why is the Chad the last to know? I’m hurt.”

“Chad, you aren’t the last to know,” Jensen explained. “We were gonna tell you tonight, but apparently Misha has some kind of sixth-fucking-sense, and I don’t know how Chris knows.”

“Misha told me,” Chris stated.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Misha? I mean, I’m like the social coordinator of our happy group; this is shit I need to know about.” Chad continued pouting.

Misha poured himself a beer, looking thoughtful. “Well, you know _now_ , don’t you? Besides, I only told Chris so he’d explain Descartes’ “Fourth Meditation” to me. What do you have to offer for information?”

Chad thought for a minute before giving his response. “One,” he held up his index finger. “I have charm. “B,” his thumb joined his finger. “I could totally help you out on your ethics paper. You know you need some assistance on Kant’s deontology; and three,” he exchanged his thumb and index finger for his middle finger so he could flip Misha off. “I have charm. That’s two charms and a tutoring session. That’s gotta be worth something, man.”

Misha snorted. “I’ll let you know, Chad.”

They took their turns bowling, each of them doing well. Jensen was proud of himself for maintaining focus while Jared radiated hotness next to him; bowling for three hours while more than semi-hard had to be some kind of fucking record. A really unfair, uncomfortable record.

Team Platonic Love garnered six of the eight possible points for the night, keeping them securely in the top three teams in the league. They were in prime position to win the whole thing, though they did have another entire semester to get through. As they were packing up their gear and changing their shoes, Jared told the team that he and Jensen wouldn’t be convening with them at the Annex, citing “writing to do” as their reason. Chad, Chris, and Misha looked at them like that was the worst excuse ever, telegraphing “we know what you’re really going to do” via raised eyebrows. Jared and Jensen were too caught up in each other to give a shit.

******************************************************************************

They got to Jared’s place in record time. Jared’s apartment was better than Jensen’s as far as space went. He lived in a single-floor duplex a couple miles from campus; it had a big living room, small kitchen, an okay-sized bathroom, and a huge bedroom with a walk-in closet. Jensen had been to Jared’s a few times, and every time he saw Jared’s closet he had a flash of Jared fucking him on the floor inside the closet. To be fair, though, he had that thought about every available surface in Jared’s (and his) apartment. Jensen’s libido was healthy as a horse.

Jared unlocked the door and let them both into his apartment. Jared’s utilities were included in the rent, so he kept the heat on a pretty high setting. The apartment was a warm welcome from the bitter cold outside. Jensen didn’t have a long time to reflect on how good the air in the apartment felt because before he knew it he was slammed against the door and Jared had attached his mouth to his neck. All he could do was moan in response.

“Jensen. You need to get this fucking coat off right the fuck now,” Jared panted into his neck as he pawed at Jensen trying to shove the coat off his shoulders.

As much as Jensen wanted to obey Jared and tear off every scrap of his own clothing, he figured he needed it for later (it was too cold to be running around naked in the great outdoors) so he pushed Jared away and began stripping. “You too, Jared. Now.”

“Bedroom,” Jared growled out, and headed down the hall. Jensen was tripping over his pant leg as he marveled at Jared’s ability to glide to his bedroom and remove his clothing at the same time. It was way hotter than Jensen figured it should be, but then again, everything about Jared was the hottest thing ever, so he didn’t dwell on it.

Once he’d regained his balance and got out of his jeans, Jensen walked into the bedroom and found Jared already on the bed…naked. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Holy shit Jared. Do you have any idea how hot you are?”

Jared just grinned and beckoned for Jensen to join him. Being a little shy, Jensen left his boxer-briefs on and climbed on top of Jared. They kissed like it was their first time and like it would be the last time they’d ever have the chance to. Jared slid his hands down Jensen’s back and held him still as he thrust up against him, grinding their erections together. Jensen gasped out a “Jesus, fuck, Jared,” and Jared responded with a “These. Off. Fucking off,” as he tugged at Jensen’s underwear. Neither of them could really communicate beyond profanity and monosyllabic words, but those words got the job done and Jensen figured syllables were overrated anyway.

Jensen stood and removed his underwear, but before he could lie back down with Jared, Jared had positioned himself on the edge of the bed, taken Jensen’s cock in his hand, and stroked him slowly. Jensen’s head fell back as a low moan escaped him. Jared had obviously taken that moan as a sign of encouragement and took the opportunity to swirl his tongue around the head of Jensen’s cock before swallowing him down. Jensen wanted to say something sexy, wanted to tell Jared how fucking gorgeous his mouth looked wrapped around him, but all that came out when he tried to speak was a whimpered “Unnnh.” Jared’s mouth felt so good it was on the verge of painful.

Jensen curled his hands in Jared’s hair and pulled his head back. He was greeted with a debauched-looking, incredibly beautiful, glossy-lipped, god of a man. Need and something else Jensen couldn’t put his finger on surged through him, and he almost kneed Jared in the face in his exuberance. Tackling Jared and shoving him back down on the bed, Jensen bypassed the rest of Jared’s perfect body in favor of getting his cock in his mouth as soon as possible. He made a mental note to worship Jared properly next time. Jared didn’t seem to mind, though, as he was too busy grinding out slurred praises like “Holy shit, Jensen. Unh. Shit. Goddamned your mouth. Your fucking mouth.”

Jensen hummed his approval – Jensen fucking loved that Jared was a talker – and got a thrust of Jared’s hips as a reaction. He tapped Jared’s stomach and made eye contact with him, giving him silent consent. He wanted Jared to fuck his mouth so badly he thought he could come just thinking about it. And yes, it would be harder than the first time. Jared got the message, apparently, because he gently laid a hand on the back of Jensen’s head and began thrusting in and out of his mouth. Jensen shifted his weight onto his right arm so he could use his left hand to guide Jared’s free hand to his mouth. Jared locked eyes with Jensen for a moment before he shifted his focus to watch his cock sliding in and out between Jensen’s lips. He ran his thumb along Jensen’s bottom lip and all Jensen could think was _Jesus, those hands._

He was painfully hard, but his sole focus was on making Jared feel as good as possible. He took control back from Jared, sucking harder and in longer strokes. When he reached down and smoothed his hand over Jared’s balls, Jared let out a choked, “Jensen! Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.” Jensen squeezed lightly while he drew his head back so his lips covered just the tip of Jared’s cock. He felt Jared grab the headboard and go rigid in his mouth as he erupted on his tongue. Jensen swallowed through the long and very sexy – almost pained – sounds coming from Jared. When the sounds stopped and Jensen heard only harsh breathing and felt Jared softening, he pulled off him and kissed his way up over the perfect little rectangles of his abs, ran his tongue over a nipple, and nibbled up Jared’s neck to his ear, whispering, “You taste perfect, Jay,” once he’d arrived there.

The details following that moment were a little fuzzy for Jensen. Jared’s hands were everywhere at once, somehow, and his mouth felt like it was burning trails into his skin. Every cell in his body rejoiced at the attention Jared lavished on him, so he couldn’t be blamed for not recalling every little detail. Recording events took more energy than Jensen was willing to redirect from wherever Jared’s mouth was on his body to his brain, so fuck total recall. What Jensen did remember, in vivid detail, was the orgasm Jared pulled from him. It was earth-shattering; it was the kind of orgasm where you saw either all black or only white behind your eyelids, where shooting fucking stars crossed the sky, angels wept, a unicorn was born, and you solved a Rubik’s cube in under ten seconds.

Jared had made very very good on his promise. Jensen had come even harder this time. If Jared could make him feel so unbelievably excellent with just his hands and mouth, he marveled at the thought of how having Jared buried deep inside him would feel. He shuddered violently and happily at the thought.

“Told you so,” Jared said. It was the vocal equivalent of a smirk.

“Mm. Hmm,” was all Jensen could muster and then he giggled. Yeah, he felt that good. He was giggle-good. He wanted to thank Jared for what he’d just done for him. No one had ever made him feel like that. The intensity of his emotions would have freaked him out if he was capable of feeling anything other than giggly and satisfied. He also wanted to stay awake, but his eyelids felt like they had little anvils tied to them and he was fading fast.

He felt Jared settle next to him and smiled at the feeling of one of the hands he was falling in love with slide over his stomach. He called on his last reserve of energy and turned to kiss Jared. He opened his mouth to Jensen and their tongues curled slowly around one another, small sighs coming from them both. Jared pulled back from Jensen and placed a kiss on his nose.

“Goodnight, Jen.”

“Mm. Night.” And just as he was about to drift off he mumbled out, “You’re better than anything, Jared.”


	10. Chapter 10

The morning after. It was the first time they’d actually spent the night together, and Jared woke up feeling giddy. He was so excited that Jensen had stayed over he had the urge to wake up him to thank him. But he figured it wasn’t like Jensen could have gone anywhere after Jared had done his best to incapacitate him. And incapacitate Jensen he had. But he had other things on his mind now, and these things included examining the sleeping Jensen next to him and coming to various realizations.

One of his realizations was directly connected to his Jensen-scrutinizing. He had obviously gotten too warm in the night because he’d done the fling-one-leg-out-of-and-on-top-of-the-covers-to-keep-cool-without-getting-cold thing. And Jared knew Jensen was beautiful; he was breathtaking at times. Jared couldn’t really put his finger on it, but he just knew that sometimes, when he looked at Jensen, he couldn’t really function. Jared was blown away by the fact that there wasn’t anything about Jensen that wasn’t pretty much perfect. He didn’t understand how it was possible. So he decided to peek at Jensen’s feet. Jared had perfectly good reasons for doing so. He wasn’t a foot-fetishist or anything, but he knew this guy in high school who was obscenely gorgeous – Jared almost fainted when the guy touched his shoulder and said his name – but he had the ugliest feet in the world. They were horrible. Jared couldn’t fathom how someone so hot could have such ugly appendages. Hence one of Jared’s realizations: Jensen really was perfect. Even his feet were beautiful. There were freckles on them, which, come on, that’s fucking adorable; and his toes were just the right length for the rest of his feet. And they looked soft.

The realization Jared had following the revelation of Jensen’s utter physical perfection was that he was dying to see Jensen wearing low-riding jeans while barefoot and with wet hair. He decided come Hell or high water he’d make that vision come true.

He realized something else, too. He was stupid for the man. It was a quiet breakthrough; it didn’t really come as a shock to him that he was all kinds of head-over-heels. It was just a feeling of warmth that spread through him as he lay in the bed observing everything he could while Jensen slept. He knew Jensen had issues with dating another academic; Jared had some of the same reservations. It was very scary to be in a relationship with someone when you had no idea if you’d really ever get to be together in the same place. But where Jared could sense that Jensen leaned more toward protecting himself and shying from relationships, Jared barreled head-on into love no matter the potential risk. He’d just have to convince Jensen everything would be okay no matter what. Jensen could be a cynical bastard; Jared was up to the challenge.

Jared drank his fill of the vision this sleeping Jensen created then slipped out of the bed and wandered down the hall into the kitchen and got a drink of water. He headed back to the bedroom with the plan of waking Jensen up with snuggles or nuzzles or kisses or something equally ridiculously fluffy and lovey before detouring quickly into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Waking up always goes smoother when there’s fresh breath involved.

Feeling fresher, Jared snuck up to the side of the bed so he could lean over to kiss Jensen on the cheek. Jensen apparently had other plans, however, because as Jared was about to kiss him, he reached out, grabbed Jared by the arm and hauled him back into bed with him.

“Shit, Jen! You fucking scared me!”

“Well, asshole, that’s what you get for leaving me all cold and alone. Now, play the big spoon so I can go back to sleep.” Jensen made an exaggerated turn onto his right side and wiggled his ass in invitation for spoonage.

“Nice try, man.” Jared spooned up behind him anyway. Who was he to deny Jensen anything? “But hey, I want to talk to you about something.” He felt Jensen’s body go stiff underneath the kisses he was placing on his neck. Clearly he’d struck a nerve.

Jensen inquired quietly, “What’s that, Jay?” Jared could sense Jensen’s anxiety.

“Hey. Hey, Jen. Look at me.” He pulled Jensen toward him so they faced one another. “It’s not about anything bad. It’s about something amazing, I think. At least, I hope that’s what it is.”

Jensen bit his lower lip, looking thoughtful. “Okay, Jared. I’m listening.”

Jared leaned in and kissed Jensen softly on the lips. “I realized something this morning while you were asleep.” He kissed him again and smoothed his hand down Jensen’s back. God, Jensen had the best back ever. “I’m pretty in love with you.”

“Yeah?” Jensen asked. He looked down again. “I think me too.” Jared could see tears welling up in his eyes.

“It scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it, Jen?” Jensen nodded. The tears were flowing pretty freely now, and Jared wanted so badly to make them stop. “I am too, if it makes you feel any better.” Jared kissed a tear that had streaked down past Jensen’s nose. “I’m terrified, actually. I mean, I have all the same worries you do. But we both have three more years in the program, right?” Jensen nodded again. “So why don’t we spend that time being together instead of worrying about what may or may not happen?”

Jensen rubbed a hand across his face. “I don’t know, Jay. I don’t know if I can deal with losing you. The odds are against us. Maybe if we quit now we won’t have to deal with the fallout later, you know?”

“Jensen. No. I’m not gonna let you do this. I know you don’t want to be hurt down the line. I don’t want to either, but damn it, you and I both know that this is worth a try. I’ve never been so comfortable or happy with anyone. I know you feel the same way, Jen. I can see it when you look at me. The adoration in your eyes breaks me in the best way. It’s amazing.” Jared peppered his face with more kisses. He was gonna love Jensen out of his damn fear if it killed him. “And I adore you. Like, intensely. You have to know that. You have to be able to see it. You have to know that I will do whatever I can to keep us together in the long run. We have at least three years. That’s a long time. And we will face the whole job issue when the time comes. But for now, can you just let me be in love with you? I am more than happy to let you be crazy about me.” He gave Jensen a very dimply smile. And a kiss. Can never have too many of those.

Jensen wiggled free of Jared’s grip, climbed out of bed and slid into the underwear he’d thrown in the corner the night before. “I need to shower.”

Jensen left the room and a minute later Jared heard the water start. He flipped over on his back and fisted his hands in his hair. Jensen was a tougher cookie than Jared thought. He’d just have to try harder. But not right now. He’d learned over the course of their friendship and now, well, them-ship, when not to push Jensen. He got out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and settled into the living room to get some reading done. About ten minutes later he heard the bathroom door open, and Jensen appeared in the living room not long after. “Hey, Jen,” he said softly.

“Hey, Jared. I’m sorry I just left you like that. I just need some time. I do love you. I really do. I realized that a while ago, actually, but I was too scared to tell you. Or too scared to admit it to myself, maybe. But just know that, okay? Just know that whatever happens, I love you.” He opened the door and stepped out into the freezing cold air.

Jared remained seated. He didn’t move. He hardly breathed. Finally, after who knows how long, he got up off the couch and made some hot chocolate complete with tiny marshmallows. He was in a daze as he settled back onto the couch. He was worried he had put undue pressure on Jensen. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the ride while it lasted. No. Jared never operated that way. He wouldn’t regret spilling his guts to Jensen no matter the outcome. That didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of losing everything. So Jared sat with his hot chocolate and marshmallows, in a daze, barely blinking, while the tears ran down his face. He barely noticed. He just wanted Jensen to come back with the right answer.

******************************************************************************

Despite the freezing fucking cold, Jensen stood at the bus stop waiting for the bus that was always late when you waited, or always early when you weren’t quite to the stop yet. It was infuriating. Not as infuriating, though, as the persistent terror he felt. It’s like he couldn’t control it. He wanted to be with Jared more than he wanted to breathe, really, but for some reason he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that everything could work out for them in the end. He needed to clear his head and just be for a while. He was on his way to the bowling alley. Well, he was on his way to the bowling alley if the god damned bus would ever come.

The bowling alley was the best place to think. Luckily he had his own shoes and ball because he’d taken them to Jared’s with him the night before. He reserved a lane and sat at the table to change his shoes. He concentrated on the laces, tightening each of them as much as he could before putting his ball on the carousel. These were movements he’d done thousands of times over the years, all of them rote, all of them muscle memory now.

The bowling alley comforted him as a child and he needed that comfort now. Badly. He went through the motions of each frame, barely paying attention to what he was doing. It all felt wrong. Off. It was the first time he’d bowled without his team there. Without Jared. He didn’t like it. He felt like he was out of his own skin, and he couldn’t tell if was because he was freaking out about shit that may happen in three years or if it was something else.

Then it dawned on him. He’d always thought the bowling alley was like home, but it wasn’t the bowling alley itself. It was the people he’d associated with it, people who he cherished. As a little boy what made him happy were his grandmother and all the fun he’d had when he was at work with her. But his happiness wasn’t contingent upon a building; happiness – his happiness – was reliant on his proximity to Jared.

How the fuck could he think Jared was someone worth giving up?

He threw his stuff back into his bowling bag and ran out the door. He waited at the bus stop, and miracle of miracles, the fucking thing was early as he waited for it. He arrived back at Jared’s door 25 minutes later. He extended his arm and knocked. Then he held his breath. He hoped he hadn’t already ruined this. He’d never forgive himself.

The door opened and revealed a puffy-eyed, but smiling, Jared. “Hey Jen,” he rasped out. “You came back.”

Jensen walked through the space Jared had made between himself and the door, then into the kitchen where he got himself a glass of water. Jared was leaning against the doorway watching him.

Jensen wanted to say a catalogue of things to Jared. He wanted to apologize, profess his ridiculous amounts of love for him, hold him, kiss him, and he wanted Jared to tell him it would all be okay. But the words wouldn’t come and his feet wouldn’t move.

But it seemed Jared read his mind, because he surged forward and wrapped Jensen in his arms, whispering “Me too, Jen” into his ear.

And somehow, that was all Jensen needed.

 

 

 _fin_


End file.
